Harkham's Corner
by Scarlettplay
Summary: AH Sequel to Harkham's Case. "I like the garage," he said. "Yes, you've told me before. A lot of your fantasies seem to happen in there." She grinned. "I'm a man in there. It's dark, and the kids don't go in there. It's quiet. I can hear you when you're breathing hard, and it makes me want you more." He released a tight moan. "That's what a man does. He owns stuff." He nodded.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_4 months later…_

Edward shifted in his seat, staring at the baby.

"How are we supposed to deal with this?" Bella asked him, staring out the window.

"I don't know." Edward shook his head and grabbed blindly for her hand.

His heart was in his throat.

"Maybe I should take the wheel." Her voice was soft.

He ran his hands across the top and then squeezed at the center. He closed his eyes and gulped in as much air as he could. His pulse was in his ears and he could barely . . .

_The square root of—_

"Edward . . . Just stop, honey. Let go. You're hurting yourself."

He barely heard her. The numbers swirled in black and white.

"Okay." But his breathing was ragged, and it wasn't okay.

The numbers grew bigger.

"Ahhhhhh! No! Stop!" He smacked his forehead and clenched his teeth tight.

Why was this happening? Not again!

It had been a year since he'd had an episode.

"Sweetheart, I'm getting out of the car now. I'm going over to your side, and I'm going to collect you out of the car, okay?"

"No!" He opened his eyes and they narrowed at her. "Shit! Shit, shit, shit! I'm a grown man. I can drive my own damn car!"

Soft smacking noises from the baby alerted him to his foul language.

He cringed. "Sorry, Button."

That's what he called him, because he had a button nose.

Bella smiled. "Byron's fine."

"I can do this. I can do this," he chanted, squeezing the wheel tighter.

Cars whizzed past them.

"I'm calling Esme," she said, pulling out her phone.

He snatched it out of her hands and slammed it into the foot well behind his seat.

"No! I can't take it when she looks at me that way like she expected this. No one should expect me to endanger my family!"

"Edward, it's okay. She understands. She's not judging you." Her eyes softened. She stroked his arm.

"Call it what you want. She expects me to have relapses, and I don't do that. I can't do that. I'm your husband, and I'm a man." He turned his head to stare out the window.

Men drove by with their women riding in the passenger's seat. No one look terrified. Their wives or girlfriends weren't gripping the seat for dear life.

Bella trusted him, and he screwed up.

Why had he answered that stupid phone call?

"I hate him," Edward began, his nostrils flaring, chest heating.

"I know . . . Do you think he knows that?"

"No. He only sees what he wants."

"What can I do?" Her hand trailed up his arm to his shoulder.

"You know what to do when I get tense."

"You want one here?" Her hand trailed down toward his waist.

"Yes. I need it. I'm so angry, the only thing I can do is have your mouth on me and come, so I can drive normal again. Give me one now." He paused, and then remembered he should probably throw in some manners. "Please. I need you too. You always know when I hurt anywhere, and you always make it better."

She smiled but her eyes were hesitant.

"If we get caught . . ."

"We won't. And even if we do, I'll tell them I'm crazy, since clearly I am." He blinked and grabbed her hand, leading it down to his zipper.

"What should I say when the cop sees how happy you are and how flushed I am with suspicious moist lips?" She smirked.

"You tell them giving me a ticket because they're jealous is more than rude, it's just sad. Do it, Bella. I wanna get us back home in one piece. I need you to suck on me." He stroked her hand, settled on his lower abs.

"Okay, but don't make a habit of this unless we're parked in our garage."

He grinned so big his Adam's apple tugged up toward his chin. "I like the garage."

"Yes, you've told me before. A lot of your fantasies seem to happen in there ever since we bought our house and moved in two weeks ago."

"I'm a man in there. It's dark, and the kids don't go in there. It's quiet. I can hear you when you're breathing hard, and it makes me want you more." He released a tight moan. "I change the oil in the car. I own this car, and my house. That's what a man does. He owns stuff." He nodded.

She swallowed. "Yeah, you do. You own all of that, and you own me, too."

"I rotate tires."

"You do that really well, sweetheart."

His heart rate spiked as she glanced down at his lap with a heated look.

"I fix things you don't know how to." His fingers on his left hand drummed on the wheel.

"That's true."

He pushed her hand down further with his right until she was inching his zipper down.

"And most of all . . ." His words hung in the air.

"Most of all?"

"I imagine how many ways I can get you under me. How I can cram you into a seat and show you why I'm a man in my own car, in my dark garage."

_Ziiiiii-iiiiiip._

"You show me nightly and sometimes more." She sucked in her lower lip and her eyes went wide, sparkling with mischief.

"I don't have a condom, so you'll use your mouth."

She exhaled with a small puff of air like she was suffocating on his words.

"And you'll swallow, because there's nowhere to spit it out."

He turned to look at the baby. He was sleeping.

"Should I hurry since we need to get Meg?"

"No. She's fine. I need you to go slow. Let me feel all of it. No rushing. I don't like rushing, and if you do that, then I'll be even tenser and want another one when I get home." He gave her a somber look, his jaw tensing.

"Okay, sweetheart. For you, I'll go as slow as possible." His zipper was lowered the rest of the way and her hands were doing what he needed them to—pulling and tugging at fabric in the way.

"So slow . . ." Her voice was raspy and thick with desire, exactly the way he needed it to be.

And that's when he pushed the seat back, flattened it as best as he could, and he reminded himself, "I'm a man. My wife knows this. I'll get her and my baby home safe, then I'll murder that bastard. Or at least beat some sense into him."

.

.

Edward handed her the keys once they were parked in the garage and gave her a tight hug. He kissed her hair and growled in her ear, "That wasn't slow enough. I want another."

"After I get Meg. Take the baby inside. I'll be back soon."

"Okay. But I want another. Not tonight, but when you get back." He nipped at her ear.

"You know I'll do that as soon as I can." She hugged him back, then pulled away.

She smiled but it was tight at the corner of her eyes.

He knew that look. She was worried about him. She'd probably call Esme.

"I'm taking your phone." He leaned to the side, felt around for it and then once he had it, pocketed the dang thing.

"You don't trust me?"

"You won't need it." He got out of the car at the same time as she did.

He went around to the back, pulled out Button, keeping him in his car seat while he continued to sleep and then waved at her as she started the car back up and went in reverse.

He went inside and could hear the garage door closing as he roamed down the hallway.

The baby was heavy, but not too much for a man.

He carried him back to his bedroom and stripped out of this itchy suit, put on some shorts and left his shirt off.

Baby's liked skin and lots of it.

Byron liked his daddy to hold him without a shirt on, and that was what Edward would do.

But only after he ate a sandwich.

Edward picked the car seat back up and swung it a little as he wandered out to the kitchen.

He set the sleeping baby out of the way and proceeded to make himself a sandwich and get a soda.

He'd upgraded to caffeinated, even though he knew it was a bad example to Meg. But he loved it. He had to have it. It was like sex in a can with fizzy stuff in it.

What could be better than that, other than a naked Bella swimming in fizzy stuff he could drink. Like champagne. His dad gave him some when he took Bella and him out to dinner after Edward agreed to start an internship in Carlisle's office.

Right as Edward had the sandwich made and his drink in his hands, there was a popping sound as he opened his can of fizzy bliss, and then a "Eeeeahhhhh, eeeaaaahhh!"

"Byron!" He turned to Button.

The little guy always knew when someone was eating and he wasn't.

"You know I need to eat," Edward told him.

He set his sandwich down on a plate and stared at his full can of soda he had yet to set his lips on.

The baby's face scrunched, his balled up fists flew to his mouth and he screamed even louder.

Edward rushed over to him, unbuckled him and had him out a second later.

He patted his little bum, bounced around a little and hummed while he held him to his chest.

When Byron settled a little, Edward rocked him and ate his sandwich one-handed.

Byron's squirmy legs pulled on his chest hairs some, but it was fine.

_Sniiiifffff. Sniiiiifffff._

Choppy danced around Edward's legs.

"I can't let you out right now. Kinda busy eating and calming Button down. Use your doggy door," he told his friend.

Choppy whimpered.

Edward groaned. "Fine! Make Byron happy, and then I'll let you out."

He crouched down, and held onto Byron tight but sat him on top of his steed.

Meg and he always loved it in _Toy Story Two_ when Woody rode the dog, Buster.

Choppy yipped for a moment and gave him a look like Edward must've eaten too many doggie treats, because this was not allowed.

"_Save me! Save me! I want to have sex in the garage after I eat my sandwich, and my boy here won't let me do that. He acts like he's starved even though Mama fed him before we left the courthouse_." Edward laughed at his funny voice he was performing for his son.

Byron was quiet, but wobbling around.

Did they make saddles for baby's and their trusty dogs?

Choppy's tail wagged and he sniffed at Edward's face.

"You smell turkey sandwich?" He grinned at Choppy. "Well, too bad. I'll give you some later. Baby's have places to go."

He somehow steered the dog over to his exit for the backyard while keeping the baby happy and on Choppy's back.

"Uhhhh . . ." His wife's voice was . . .

"What?" He picked up Button and snuggled with him, pretending like he hadn't been teaching him how to someday be a rodeo clown.

How did she always sneak up on him when he was doing stuff like this?

"Nothing." Bella smiled, shrugged her shoulders and then set Meg down.

The little bottomless pit went straight for his sandwich and was already gobbling it down as he nuzzled his nose into Button's sweet little hair.

"Is he hungry again?" Bella asked, patting Button's back.

"He's fine. Manly bonding time is all." He grabbed his soda before Meg begged for some.

He chugged it down. Button was sucking his fist again.

"Yep, he's hungry." Bella gave him a knowing look.

"He's fine." He pointed at the bedroom. "Get Meg set up and then meet me back there. It's not a garage, but I told you I'm not waiting."

"I heard you the first time." She pinched his butt, smiled and then brought Meg over to the table and got her some more food, her favorite neon colored crayons and some paper.

His daughter was always doodling.

"Mama will be back in a little bit," she told her.

Edward was already in their bedroom, stroking the baby's back and cooing in his ear.

"I need this. You can manage to be happy for ten minutes, and I'll pay you two dollars," he told his son.

"Mmmmeeehhhap," the baby mewled.

"That's right—meehappy when Mama sucks me." He used a firm voice. "We're men. We understand there are needs."

"Be serious. He can't understand that." She closed the door and then turned to him, lifting her shirt and getting ready to feed the boy again.

"But I come first." Edward stared at creamy, round flesh.

"You come first after the baby's not squawking."

"Lay down."

She pressed her lips together and her eyes gave nothing away.

"I said—lay down." He pointed this time.

The second she was on the bed, her chest exposed, he handed her the baby. The voracious little one latched right on.

That was fine.

Edward sat at the foot of the bed and pulled her heels off.

His fingers massaged and kneaded into the soles of her feet.

"Ohhhhh, that feels good," she moaned.

"You hate heels more than I hate wearing a suit," he mused.

"I think you're right. They were making my legs cramp up a little."

His fingers roamed up her calves, and the more he dug in, the louder she got.

"I like the sounds you make." His fingers were up under her skirt now.

She squirmed and chuckled a little.

The baby made a little squeaking noise but kept eating.

Within moments, Edward was finding ways of undressing her without bothering the baby or disturbing his meal.

She was in her underwear now, and so curvy and pretty, he had to get up and lock the door.

"He'll be asleep soon, but he's not out yet," she informed him.

"Open your mouth, Bella."

She turned her head over her shoulder and her eyes went wide.

"I said open. If he can suck on you while I'm undressing you, then you can suck on me, while he goes to sleep. When the men are done in this room, then it'll be your turn. I like tasting you, too."

She made this throaty catching noise, like a trap door just swung shut, but then her mouth was open, and he approached her, his body bared more than hers.

"Thank you. I like it when you listen to me." He grinned.

.

.

"Edward, sweetheart, wake up!"

"Whhhhaaaa . . . ?" His eyes wedged open a little. The sheets were fisted in his hands and he was drenched in sweat.

"You were having another nightmare," she told him, stroking his jaw. "Was it him again?"

"Yeah." He kicked the covers off, and Button startled in the bassinet next to the bed.

He was surprised the baby was still in there. Usually by now he was nursing again and in bed with them.

"Why won't you call Esme? You know she can help."

He raked his fingers down his cheeks. "No. She's got better things to do."

"She's about to open up that center for kids with similar issues. There have been advances on medicine. Why don't we go visit and just take a look around?"

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?" She sat up and reached for him.

How did she always know when he needed touch? He rarely had to ask anymore.

He landed in her lap and curled his body around hers. "It hurts. Inside my heart, my head—all of it aches like someone's drilling me."

"I know, and I want it to get better. He did this to you without even realizing it."

He rolled his hips into her. "Make it better like you always do."

"Sex didn't keep this nightmare from happening. You wanted oral twice, and you got it. Now, I can help you get back to sleep by pleasuring you again, but is that really going to stop this from happening? You were triggered today, and that's not something to be ashamed of."

"It is for me. I know better. I'm smarter now." His stomach knotted up.

"It's not about being smart." Her fingers drifted through his hair. She smelled like yogurt. He was warm and fuzzy inside when he inhaled her delicious scent. "You smell like my baby's favorite food."

She chuckled. "You mean I smell like baby spit-up?"

"Yuck. That's not what I said." He scrunched up his nose.

"Can you tell me what you're thinking will help, other than sex? I'm happy to make love with you, but you're going to run through our condom stash pretty quick if you keep this pace up."

"I want to call him, yell at him, and rip his heart out of his elbow so the bones will splinter while I'm doing it, but he doesn't deserve that." He huffed and stroked her thigh next to his head. His nose ran along the smooth flesh there. He hummed a little.

"When the judge said—"

"Don't say it—not you, too. I can't listen to this." He turned over and buried his face in her lap.

"Fine, I'll keep quiet, but at least talk to someone. If not Esme or me—someone you can trust."

He shook his head back and forth, his ears hitting her thighs.

She sighed and leaned back into the wall. They couldn't afford a headboard.

It cost them all of their money to buy this place, and that was even after Dad helped with the down-payment.

"Then I'm telling you now—if you don't do something about this tomorrow, then no more of this nice Bella."

His head popped up. "Whattaya mean? No sex?" His voice shook.

"No. I'm not that cruel, and I'm not trying to punish myself." She walked her fingers through his bangs and then scratched his scalp like he did sometimes to Choppy.

"Then what?"

"No more of me stocking you up with soda. I'll let you tear through what we have, but then you go buy it yourself."

"Belllll-ahhhh!" His voice hitched.

"I don't care what you do, or who you talk to about what happened today, but someone needs to know what's going on in that head of yours." She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Try to buy your soda yourself, and see what happens."

"Emmett can get it for me."

"He won't."

"Dad?"

"Nope. I'll tell them both you're being restricted."

"I'm a man!" His spine snapped to straight. "And I can have a damn soda if I want to."

"Yes, but you can't go into that grocery store by yourself since that stupid woman reported you when she saw you again. Remember her? The one with the cute little girl you gave a ride in the cart?"

"That was a long time ago. The grocery store doesn't care anymore." He swallowed hard. No more soda?

"They keep files of stuff like that."

"They do?" His eyes dried out as he failed to blink. "I can go to a convenience store."

"You don't like operating the fountain machines, and you hate getting into those glass doors," she reminded him.

"The doors make that awful suction sound. It makes my head ring." He shivered for a second.

"Exactly."

"Be nice." He stroked her belly, and neared better places. "You have to be nice to me. I'm the man. I'm _your_ man, and I say be nice."

She let him touch her wherever he wanted, but her breathing didn't escalate.

"Be hot for me," he said. "I like that even better than being nice."

"Be reasonable and talk to someone about your episode and dreams." Her breathing was still the same.

His chest heated and pressure built up.

"Will you make those noises I like?" He leaned in and kissed her at the corner of her mouth.

He left leg went up and bent at the knee.

"Sure."

"And soda? I can have that as well?"

"You can. Just share." Her voice was softer.

"What if I decide to go to another grocery store?"

"You can do that, sure, but you'll feel guilty while you're buying it."

He groaned and his head fell down to his chest. "Why? Why do you have to do this?"

She kissed his crown and set her hands on his shoulder. "Because I love you, and I want you to feel like a man. And when you have episodes and feel out of control, you act out. You regress, and I know you hate yourself when that happens, even if it doesn't bother me. I want you to like _you._" She paused. "Do you realize you've told me about a dozen times today you're a man? You only do that when you're really upset."

"I like you. I like you wet and soft and melting in my hands. I like you listening to me when I tell you where to touch me." He ignored her man comment. Who counted stuff like that?

"Tell me right now you'll talk to someone tomorrow, and I'll do all of those things." She gripped his shoulders harder.

"In the garage?" His voice went up in pitch and his body temperature rose.

"Tomorrow I'll do whatever you want in the garage, but only after you talk to someone."

"In the car? If I want you to put your head in the trunk, and I get that sticky back seat down so it opens to the trunk, you'll do that?"

She laughed for a moment, and it was low and sexy sounding, traveling down to his tightening groin.

"Yes, Edward. I'll bend backward and do the splits with one leg out the window if that's what you want."

A stream of really foul words emanated out of him. He lurched forward and practiced with her in that moment.

Making sure she was as limber as she was suggesting. Practicing was important.

He promised he'd do whatever she asked if she'd make his garage fantasies come true.

Maybe he'd bring a soda so he could drink one afterward.

**A/N:**

**Any guesses now who is triggering him? We know it's a man, but who could it be?**

**I'm hoping to update at least every other week. Sorry, this one will be fade to black, too. I have to on this account…**

**Thank you so much for reading and reviewing Harkham's Corner.**

**Scarlett**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"What has you so upset?" Mom asked.

"You know what has me like this." Edward gripped the back of his head.

She sat next to him and he scooted away, creating distance. "It wasn't done to upset you. He just wants to make things better."

"By taking me to court?" Edward huffed, his voice going up in pitch. He gripped the edge of the couch.

"You wouldn't talk to him or discuss this with him. He wants some rights." Her fingers flexed on her lap. Was she going to try and touch him?

Edward stood. "You know what? Fine. He can have all the rights. I don't want anything to do with him or his music." He pointed down the hallway. "You tell him I don't want any credit. See—then he has no claim on me. I did that because it was his birthday, not because I wanted to make any money off it. How was I supposed to know it would be so popular?"

"You have a gift. We both realize that—your father and I want to help you. This could make you a lot more money. It already helped you gather a down-payment for your home." She slouched and leaned toward him. Was she about to hug him?

His spine stiffened and he angled away from her. "That's fine. I'll give you all the money back." He flinched.

"No, Edward." Her eyes went wide. "That's not why he did that. It's not about the money—it's about having some claim over you as his father. It's about you recognizing him."

Edward's shoulders went back. "I told you—I did it for his birthday. Obviously I was recognizing him as my father! He wants money, or why would he be claiming rights to the song?"

"Forget it. It's clear you're still not ready to talk about this. He made money on it for you. He gave all the money to you—had Carlisle put it straight into your joint account with him. If you'd just let him, your father could market you, and you could do what you love, instead of languishing away in some medical office."

His eyes twitched and his back was on fire as he damn near shouted, "I am not languishing! I'm good at what I do! Ask Dad—my _real_ dad, not Anthony! I don't know that man!" He was pointing down the hallway again. "And see if I ever do anything nice for him ever again!"

He stomped through the living room and toward the door.

As soon as he was in his car, tears flooded down his cheeks.

His fingers shook as he held the steering wheel and raced down the street.

"Ahhhhhh! I hate that man!" he hollered over and over again.

The minute he was inside his house, he blasted down the hallway in search of his wife.

She was napping, and Button was in his bassinet, sleeping as well.

He went to Bela's side, grabbed her into his arms and before she could speak, he was heading to the garage.

"I spoke to her like you wanted me to. Now, you're coming with me. In the car—strip, and I'll tell you what I want," he growled.

She blinked with rapidly changing emotions crossing her features—shock, elation and being turned on. All of this while she was still waking up.

"What're you . . . I mean, did you . . ."

"Shhh. I don't want to talk about that until after I've had you." He kissed her, then opened the door to the garage. "When I've had my fill, then we can talk. So no more. I want quiet in this garage. This is my space, and you're only to breathe hard and touch me where I say, when I say and how I want."

"Okay." Another set of rapid blinks and mixed emotions.

He set her down, opened the car up. "Clothes go over there, and then you go in here." He pointed at the little spot on his work station that he kept clean in case the opportunity ever arose to have her out here.

She shrugged out of her clothes while he put down the backseat of the car so it was gaping into the trunk.

His attention was riveted on her since her skin looked creamy and yummy.

Watering mouth.

Tightening pants.

Fingers flexing and aching for her.

He tore his clothes off, and instead of turning the car on for music, he pulled out his iPhone, put it on the front seat and set the song on repeat that had started this whole mess.

Her eyebrow arched up in question, and she paused.

"Yes, we're going to love each other while playing this song. I want it to make a good memory for me." He reached for her. "And stop worrying about the kids. They'll be fine. This won't take long."

Her hesitation disappeared as she slid onto his lap.

In the next breath, his lips were all over her body, and his hands dug into her hips.

"I want you under me. I want you loud. Do _that_, and we can talk after." He kissed her mouth.

She nodded when he broke away. "Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you need."

"I need you to follow me." He swapped spots with her, leaned her back so her face was in shadow from being in the empty trunk.

It was odd that such a small thing should make him so sore and achy for her, but it did. This was forbidden, and he knew it.

People didn't do this. But _he_ did.

His pulse raced as he spread her legs and made love like he never had before.

The music filled the car along with her panting breaths.

His voice, his piano playing, along with his father's deep tones, morphed into something more . . . Something better.

It was his mixture of funky and serious. It was a cross between classic piano, a touch of jazz and hip hop. His father's voice sounded amazing, and Edward's was okay.

"Ohhhhhh, you sound insanely sexy," she whispered as he nipped at her neck and kept touching her.

"Shhhh . . . Just listen. Just breathe hard for me." He gripped her behind the knees and kept reveling in the feel of her.

The darkness, the steaminess of her skin and ragged breaths was too much.

"Can you get there? I need you to . . . I'm gonna . . . I have to," he stammered.

He entwined her fingers with his and locked them down by her head.

Then he realized he wasn't touching her, and she needed that.

So, he let go with his right hand, sang along to the music and brushed his fingers reverently over her swollen, sweet tissues.

With a shuddering moan and a tip of her hips, she came undone.

He released a dying groan and clutched her tightly to his chest.

As their breaths slowed and the song repeated for the third time, he could hear Meg inside calling out for them.

"I told you we'd be done before they needed us," he said, smirking.

"She's probably scared. We didn't tell her we were still here but out in the garage." She patted his back.

He was squeezing the air out of her lungs because he was holding her so tight. It was too soon to let go.

"Bella . . . If I go help her get settled, will you stay out here? I want to talk out here, not inside. I don't want the kids to hear this," he said.

"It's pretty warm out here. Why don't you set her up, and we can go talk in the bedroom. It's not like Button will know what we're talking about," she offered.

"Yeah, but he sleeps light during the day. He'll probably wake up, and I want your undivided attention."

"How about a shower? We can talk in there?"

He nodded, then got out of the car, put his clothes back on and went after Meg.

It didn't take long to help her find something to keep her busy.

He gave her a snack, had one himself, but when he went back to take a shower with his wife, she was in there with Button.

Edward sighed.

He loved showering with the baby, but this was kind of important. If he didn't take his time to discuss this, he might get all worked up and say it wrong.

"Button—you need to sleep," he told their little guy, then took him from her so she could wash up.

"Did we make a mess in the car?" she asked as she doused her head.

"I don't know. And I don't care. If we did, I'm sure Meg will cover it up with crumbs and spilled drinks. No one's gonna know." Edward rocked Button in his arms.

"All right. If you're fine with it, I guess it's not a big deal." She kept washing at her usual quick pace.

He couldn't remember the last time she was able to just relax in here.

"Slow down. I've got him. Just enjoy this. He's not fussing." He stroked the baby's back. "He loves the water."

"I know, but Meg's not known to hang out for long periods of time either, so we don't have a ton of time to talk."

He took that as his cue to begin. "Okay, fine. What should I say? That I still hate him? That he makes me crazy? That he wants to use something that was supposed to be a gift and turned it into a battle?"

"Is that what your mom said?" She shaved with quick precision, glancing at Button every few minutes like he might explode any minute.

"No. She said he was doing it to be a part of my life, because he wants some credit as my father. I don't get why he can't just enjoy it, so I told her I'd give him all the credit. He can have all the money. I don't even want it anymore."

She paused, gave him a curious look and then exhaled. "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?" He kissed the top of Button's head. The little guy was squirming now.

Edward grabbed the bar of soap and lathered up the squirmer.

"You realize if you go this route, he's only going to push harder," she said, sounding exhausted.

"Why would he do that? This is what he wants. He wants to control it and make money. I'm giving it to him so he can leave me alone."

She stood straight, put the razor away and washed off the soap but kept her eyes on him. "This isn't the end of it. This is his way of asserting control, but I don't think it's totally about the money."

His throat exploded as he all but shouted, "Of course it is! He's a bad, selfish man!"

She cupped his cheeks. "No, he's a confused father. He's trying to reach out but doesn't know how."

"This isn't reaching. This is stealing. He wants money, and I'm giving it to him." He swapped spots with her and rinsed the baby off carefully. His grip tightened so the slippery wiggler wouldn't fly out of his arms.

Button made a raspberry noise. It was adorable, so Edward kissed his temple.

"_Edward _. . ." She took the baby so he could wash himself. "Think about it—what happens when you push our kids away even a little bit, even if it's just for a few moments?"

"Meg gets whiny, Button gets clingy. So what?"

"So, what happens if I say I don't wanna make love or pleasure you? How do you react?" She pursed her lips.

"I want it more. I get more demanding, or you say I'm a bear to deal with because then I won't stop touching you at all. So. What?" His voice was tight.

"Grownups are the same as kids. We all have needs, and if they aren't met, then things can get ugly. If you push him away, he's going to get desperate, and go after something else he knows is important to you. He's trying in his own odd way to show you he wants to be involved. You both like music, and you're both really talented. What else does he have in common with you? We haven't let him see the kids again other than briefly when you gave him that present. Did you see how his eyes lit up when you handed him the CD with the song?" She played with the few little curls at the nape of the baby's neck.

"I didn't even give him the others I made. I didn't know if he'd like it," he said, his breath catching in his throat. "What if I'd given him the rest? Would he have tried to steal those, too?"

His head was pounding, and he could feel numbers at the back of his brain.

"Breathe . . . I'm not gonna discuss the what ifs. We don't know what he would've done, so don't worry about that. Maybe you need to ask him point blank what he wants instead of assuming he's out to get you and make money off what was supposed to be a kind gesture." She rocked the baby. He was squeaking a little now with his fist pushing into his mouth.

Edward groaned. "I don't know how to talk to that man. I try, but he's . . . He confuses me. I feel like a child when I'm around him, and I don't like it. I'm a man."

"I know you are, sweetie. You're the best man." She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "The best man I've ever known. Now, show your dad that's who you are, and you're not intimidated by his presence."

A gallon of peace swept over him with the water. "You're right. Why are you always so smart and sweet? I wish I was more like you."

"I don't, but thanks for saying that." She smiled and her eyes were softer than the baby's skin.

"Why wouldn't you want me to be like you?" His eyes lifted and he ignored the water trying to get into his eyes.

"Because then you wouldn't be a man, now would you?" She smirked.

"You are silly. Sex in a the garage makes me feel better, and talking in the shower makes you silly."

She giggled. "I love you."

"I love you, but I still don't like that man."

"I know." She stroked his shoulder. "It's okay. Sometimes we love our family because we have to, but we don't always have to like them."

He shrugged. "Good, because I don't know if I'll ever like him, and it makes me feel sick about it. The only time I feel worse than when I think about him is when I guzzle down too much soda—that's how awful he makes me feel."

.

.

"Hey, Son, what's going on?" Carlisle answered the door.

Edward leaned into the door frame. "Do you have a few minutes between clients?

"Yeah, a few minutes. You look like you're not feeling well. Do you need to leave for the day?" His dad motioned for him to join him inside his office.

"I'm sick over something with Anthony. Remember I told you I was going to court because he was making me crazy?" Edward took a seat.

"I remember." His dad nodded and took a seat as well. "I didn't know what that meant, but I could tell you wanted privacy on the matter, so I didn't press. I figured you know I trust you and anytime you want to talk about anything at all, I'm there for you." Dad drummed his fingers on his desk.

"I need you to keep it to yourself, that's why I didn't tell you," Edward blurted. "I don't want Esme to know. And I didn't think it would be fair to tell you something I wanted you to keep secret from her since you love her. I love Bella, and I don't lie to her. I tell her everything. You told me that was important. So, I'm being mean by asking you to keep this from her. Are you okay with this?"

Dad nodded and his mouth dropped a little. He tensed in his seat. "I can do whatever you need."

"You're not gonna get mad at me for keeping this from her?"

Dad sighed and shook his head. "Believe it or not, you come first, Edward. Always. I do what's right for you. If you say don't tell her, unless I think it'll harm you not to, then I keep it to myself." His shoulders relaxed.

Edward took a deep breath and told his father what Anthony was doing. "I don't know what to do. I don't feel like this is something I want Esme to know. I just want her to respect me, and think I'm still progressing and doing better, but after that last bad episode . . . It feels like I'm back to where I started. Why does that man make my head so crazy?"

Dad opened the drawer to his desk. "What does Bella think?"

"She says I should ask him what he wants from me. She thinks he's trying to figure out how to connect with me, but I don't want to connect with him. I was being nice by giving him a gift. I didn't know what else to give him—not like you. I know what you like to do, and what you enjoy. I don't know that man. I only knew he liked music. I took some clips online of his voice, recording my part, mixed them and then added my own beats. I gave him a CD of it. He liked it, so I put it on YouTube. He shared it with people, and they wanted to buy it. So, you know what he did? He set up that damned website, and had you give me the money."

"Sounds like he's trying to be nice back and honor you." His dad smiled, but his eyes were grumpy at the corners.

"Then why is he bringing me to court so he has some rights to it? He wants money. That's what I think." Edward turned his face away. Tears were gathering at the edges. He blinked until it dried out.

"I don't know what to tell you. He didn't approach me about the money—your mother did. I told her you needed the money, so even though I didn't want to deal with them, I agreed. All for you. I want you happy. I wanted you to get out of that one bedroom apartment."

Edward stood up and sighed. "He should go back to not existing in my life."

"I don't think he can. Can anyone walk away from you?"

"Plenty of people do."

"Not really." His dad set a hand on his shoulder. "The second someone really knows you, they care about you. Do you know how many of our patients ask for you over me? I'm the one running this place, and I've been their doctor for years, but they like you. They ask for my apprentice, and they call you that because that's what you told them to call you." His dad chuckled.

"You're just being nice." Edward lunged at him, hugged his dad tight, and then left.

They had work to do.

"There he is! The apprentice!" one of his favorite clients yelled out.

Mrs. Foxworthy approached him, shook his hand, and Dad gave him the eyebrow that said, "See? Told ya."

Edward grinned and helped her into an examination room. "How are you today?" he asked her.

"I'm good _now_. I swear that smile of yours always makes me happy." Her face lit up as she took a seat.

"Well, I got this smile on my face because you're always so patient with me."

She laughed and sighed at the end. "Oh, you are too sweet. How many cavities will you give my sweet tooth today?"

He cocked his head. "I've got an extra tooth brush I can give you. It's unopened. Want me to get it and give it to you?"

She laughed harder. "Better see my dentist tomorrow." She winked.

Edward rubbed his jaw and turned away. "I don't have cavities, and I drink soda," he told himself.

She cackled. "Turn around and say that to my face. I can't believe how adorable you are."

He curled over his laptop. "Uh . . . Maybe later. Let's get your blood pressure instead."

**A/N:**

**Posted early. Couldn't resist. ;D**

**Just a reminder… I post teasers on my facebook group. The link's in my profile if you want to join. We sometimes have discussions over there as well about the story and the characters.**

**Thank you to all of you for reviewing and sharing your thoughts. I apologize I don't have time to answer a lot of reviews right now, but I do read all of them. And I'm so glad that you're willing to read the sequel for Harkham's Case. It's always fun writing this Edward because he's so different from any other character I've ever written.**

**I apologize if there are errors in this. I don't have a beta or pre-readers on this one, and simply don't have time to obsess over this story right now like I usually do. Just have way too much going on in my personal life and with my writing.**

**Scarlett**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Mrs. Foxworthy—a patient of his dad's.

All Edward knew was that she made him uncomfortable with those stares of hers as he worked.

"Are you going to finish on that computer, or are you playing games with me?" she called out.

He cleared his throat and turned around.

She was young. Probably younger than Bella. She wore her long blonde hair down today, and it was so straight, he wondered if she pressed it between books like the way people press flowers and make them all flat and preserved.

That was always fun to do.

Her light green eyes studied him.

"You're nervous. Do I make you that way?" She chuckled.

"No," he replied, his voice shaky.

"Those dark green eyes don't lie to me. Come say that to my face," she challenged, pointing at the spot right before her.

"Why don't you hop up on the examining table, and I'll get your vitals now," he suggested by means of distraction.

"I'll need your help. My hip is bruised again," she said.

He walked over to her, set his lab coat aside so it wouldn't get rumpled, then grabbed her by the waist and hauled her up with one very swift, ungraceful movement.

He tried to ignore the fact she was very curvy, and she almost looked like an upside down pear with a lot of cleavage on display. Fruit had peels for a reason—to stay modest.

"My God—you really are too beautiful for words, Edward." Her voice lowered.

"There are words. You just used them, and thank you, but men don't like to be called beautiful. It's too girlie and not tough."

"Okay, how about handsome." She reached her hand out toward his face.

He jerked backward. Was she going to touch his cheek?

"I'm married, and so are you. That means I only touch your wrist to check blood pressure, pulse and then I might swipe your forehead to check temperature with a gadget, but that's it."

She yanked the side of her pants down.

He turned away and held his breath, closing his eyes in the process.

"But what about my hip? I've fallen down again. I need you to look at it and tell me how to make it better. You'll need to touch me there, doctor."

"I'm not a doctor," he said through his teeth, his jaw clenched tight. "I'll go get you my dad. He's a real one. I'm just an assistant."

"Oh come on . . . You're more than that." She shifted around behind him.

He hoped she was putting her clothes back on. While he hoped and prayed she was fully dressed behind him, he wandered toward the door.

"You're a gorgeous man. No harm in looking. And I hope it's all right for me to say—but your wife is one lucky bitch. She has no idea how hot you are."

He turned around, ready to scream at her to never call his wife that awful name, but she was directly behind him, and she reached out to him again.

He made this odd squeaking noise, and then he was out the door, running down the hall.

Oh no! He left his lab coat back there!

His fingers trembled as he checked for his phone. He usually had them in his pants pocket.

He found it quickly. "Pick up, pick up, pick up!" he chanted as he dialed his wife.

"Hi, honey. Are you on break?"

"This woman tried to touch me. And I like touch, but not hers. I don't really know her, but she kept saying I was beautiful, and she called you a bitch, but she said you were lucky to have me, and I ran away. Will you not be mad at me? I didn't let her touch me, even though she tried to twice."

"Is this a client?" Her voice was steady.

"Yes—Mrs. Foxworthy. I think she wants sex."

"With you? What woman doesn't?" She chuckled.

"This is the opposite of funny."

"Have you told your dad?"

"No. I called you first because I feel dirty, and she's ugly to me now. I don't want to see her again or even think about her." He paced the hallway.

A moment later, his father was in the hallway, casting an odd glance his way.

Edward waved and tried to smile, but it was more like a wrinkly grimace.

"What's wrong?" his dad asked as he approached.

"Is that your dad?" she asked.

"Yeah. He can tell I'm antsy. I'm walking like ants live in my pants. And usually the only thing that lives in there is your hands and mouth and sometimes your—"

"Tell him what happened. We'll discuss your pants later, sweetheart. I love you."

She ended the call, and his dad was before him, studying his facial expression.

"Mrs. Foxworthy is after me. She was flirting, and I did nothing to get her to do that. I was going to take her vitals, but she kept trying to touch me. I think she hurt her hip on purpose to come here so she could get naked in front of me and get me to touch her. She's tricky, and I don't like it. I don't like her either. She says I'm beautiful, but she's not. She's hideous, Dad. I can't go back in there."

"Breathe, son. It'll be all right. Maybe this was a miscommunication?"

"No. She called Bella a bitch, but she sounded like she wanted to be her. What a mean word. Why would she call her that?"

His dad smiled. "Sounds like she's got a crush on you."

"I think she should have her tongue crushed for saying such a nasty thing about my very pretty wife. I love Bella. I would never think that word about her at all."

"I'm glad to hear that." His father hugged him, patted him on the back twice and then said he would take care of this client.

Edward shook his head. He was still missing his lab coat, and that one smelled like Bella.

She'd hugged him before he came to work.

He hummed, paced a little more and once Mrs. Foxworthy was gone, he went in search of his coat.

Only it was missing.

"Dammit!" he blurted.

His father turned to him. "Something wrong? I took care of Ryan."

"Mrs. Foxworthy—not Ryan. We don't call them by their first names. It's unprofessional."

His dad chuckled. "I do. I like them to feel at ease, but you do whatever feels best for you."

"Did she take my coat? It's missing. I accidentally left it on the examining table when she needed a lift onto the table."

His dad's eyes squished close together. "She asked for help?"

"Yeah?"

"And you gave it?"

"Yeah." Edward's jaw flexed and his breathing was louder than his baby's when he nursed with a stuffy nose.

"She definitely came here to see you today. There was nothing wrong with her hip. I think she's in a failed relationship, and you're attractive. She probably thinks you'll be a rich doctor someday. No harm in trying. You can't blame her. She's only nineteen," his dad told him.

"Nineteen?"

"Didn't you check her file?"

"No. I don't like to be nosy about them. I only look at their last name, and then I write down the pertinent information. I do my job, and I do it well. I don't waste time on facts I'm not supposed to know."

"Yes—you're fabulous at this job. Very thorough, but It's okay to read it. They write it down so we can get a history." His dad finished tidying up the room.

"No one wants to write that stuff down. I don't want them to know I'm over six feet tall, how much I weigh, how old I am and that I drink lots of soda. It's none of their freaking business." He almost slipped and said a really rotten curse word.

His dad blinked. "Okay, yeah, I get what you're saying, but you shouldn't feel guilty if you read their file."

"Okay, I won't." Edward opened the door so they could both exit the room. It smelled like spicy perfume—Mrs. Foxworthy crazy kind of spicy. He wrinkled his nose. "I won't feel guilty because I won't read it."

His dad chuckled and went back to work.

Edward did the same, but with less amusement.

.

.

Edward growled.

"Is it too hot?" Bella asked, staring at his plate of food.

"No. I'm not hungry for this bit of meat. I want you."

"Edward, honey—I get you had a bad day, but I'm tired. We need to feed the kids, and we both have some stuff we need to deal with. You've got some studying to do for your upcoming test, and I . . ." She sagged in her chair.

"Just a little touching?" He scooted his chair closer to her, and it made this icky scratching noise.

"A little is never enough for both of us. I want to wait this time. You can handle it. I know you can." She stroked his cheek.

"You love me, though, right?"

"So much. I'm just a little worn out. Button was marathon nursing all day. My chest is sore, I'm cranky and I doubt I'd be able to really please you. Give me a little bit of time to unwind."

"I'll deal with him. You finish eating, then go take a nap or do something relaxing. Want me to get a bath ready for you?" He grinned.

"Nudity and you—always find a way to coexist, don't they?"

He smirked. "Only with you. Mrs. Foxworthy is not seeing any skin of mine."

"She wanted to, though."

He huffed. "She's nineteen, but she seems old and sick to me." He almost shivered. Was his skin moving over his bones? Did it want to leave, all because he was talking about that woman?

"Wow—you're attracting a younger crowd now, huh? That's impressive." She leaned in and kissed him. "I love that you're so honest—you called me right away. It means so much to me that you protect what we have."

"I would have pushed her down if she came at me again. She can't take me away from you. No one can." He gripped her wrist and pulled her palm to his mouth, then kissed in the center. "My heart is with you. I gave up what I thought I was to know you better, and I'll never regret that—ever."

"Neither will I."

"I'm done, mommy," Meg said.

"I'll help you. Mommy needs a break," he said, helping Meg down from her chair.

"You need something to break?" Meg asked.

Bella laughed. "No, cutie. I need to rest, that's all."

"You and I are going to make paper hats," he told his daughter. "And Button can watch."

"Okay!" Meg clapped for a second, then skipped out of the room.

Bella gave a tired smile, then left him with Button, sitting content in a bouncy chair that vibrated.

"You like to be shaking, don't ya, buddy?" Edward leaned down and got in his face, rubbing noses with him. "Here's my secret—I like to shake, too. It's called an orgasm. It's better than sweet soda. You'll see someday."

Edward got back up, cleaned up the kitchen, whistling a new tune as he went.

Until the phone rang, and it was _him_.

The nightmare that shouldn't have a phone.

"Should I answer it?" he asked Button.

Button made a gurgling noise in response.

"What? You have five minutes to say something because I am about to make hats with my children, and I'm very good at it," Edward said, answering the call.

"How come I didn't get a hat for my birthday?" Anthony teased.

"You got something that I thought you'd like—and I won't make that mistake again." Edward picked up Button and headed out to the living room.

Meg was spinning in circles, singing.

He set Button in a safe spot and went about getting them paper so they could fold to their heart's content.

Anthony rambled on about some new scheme he was involved with. "And I want you to help. I need a DJ."

"No."

"Y-you don't want to even think about it? Honestly—you can't see what this could mean for you?"

"I can see what it means—it means time away from my family, and I'm not willing to do that. They're more than the cherry on top of my dessert. They're the food that keeps me alive. I can't leave them unless I'm working for an honest day's pay or going to school."

"Edward—this is the crowd you need. You could play some of your original music. I know they'll love it. And I won't record any of it. I only want you to see what I do when I hear your songs—how talented you are and how it's being pissed away. They'll let you know the truth."

"I said no—and I don't piss away anything. I've gotta go. You've taken five minutes and thirty-four seconds, so you can't say I wasn't generous with my time. Goodbye."

Edward turned his phone off and tucked it in his pocket.

"All right—it's time to bury our heads in hats." He clapped his hands together, rubbed them and then set about making Button a blue hat to match his outfit.

He would make his mama proud.

.

.

Bella slept a lot, but Edward was nice. He didn't wake her.

When it was time for the little man to eat, he helped her latch him on.

As he put Meg to sleep by singing to her, he wondered why his song he'd made for Anthony was so popular.

A new tune ran through his head, so he hummed it and mentally wrote down all the accompaniment.

This one was different. It still had a driving beat like all the others did, but it was simpler—softer in a way.

A story of love and binding commitment.

All the things Anthony never understood.

He glanced over at Meg, and she was breathing the sleepy way, so he got up and left her room.

His feet carried him to the kitchen. He made himself a sandwich and then sat down at the table with a paper and pencil.

He wrote.

Then he wrote some more.

The music wouldn't stop.

So, he kept going.

Before long, he had twelve pages of music drafted out.

"Whoa," he whispered to himself.

Choppy flopped at his feet under the table.

"How am I ever going to have time to record all this?" He rubbed his eyes.

They were burning, he was so tired.

He picked up the rough draft sheets of music and tucked them in his backpack.

He'd deal with them later.

He pulled out his textbook and started studying.

For the next two hours, time dragged.

That stupid song kept planting itself in his brain so he couldn't concentrate.

He had to reread the same passages over and over to comprehend what he was reading, even though he was dealing with fairly simple and straightforward material.

After another half hour of brain mush reading, he dropped his textbook on the coffee table, grabbed his keyboard and plugged in his headphones.

Without the sheets of music in front of him, he pressed record and started playing it.

When he was done, he ended the recording and checked the timer.

Over ten minutes worth of song.

Who would ever want to listen to his song that went on and on and never seemed to end?

Maybe Bella would like it and he could give it to her as an anniversary gift?

He started mixing it with some techno beats and figured he'd add in some vocals later.

The words hadn't really surfaced yet anyway.

He lay down on the couch and listened to it once more to make sure he was satisfied with this beginning version.

His eyes drifted shut, and he fell asleep.

.

.

"Knock, knock," came his mother-in-law, Rene's, voice.

He groaned and sat up.

"Oh, sorry. Did I wake you? Bella was supposed to go yard saling with me today." Rene was entirely too chipper.

He mumbled something about how she was probably still asleep.

A moment later he got up and found her in the shower.

"Your mom's here," he told her. "She wants you to go junk shopping with her since it's Friday, and she always says Saturday all the good stuff's gone—it's all picked over."

She snorted. "Yeah, I'm hurrying. I should be out in a few."

"Okay—I'll let her know."

He stumbled back out into the family room.

Meg was in her pajamas, talking to Gramgram for several minutes.

He managed to tell Rene briefly that Bella would be ready in a few minutes.

"Were you composing last night?" Rene asked him when Meg found her way over to him.

She snuggled into his lap.

"Yeah—I didn't mean to—it just happened."

"Accidents just happen. Composing music isn't an accident—you're gifted," she replied.

"Not you, too? Jeez—Anthony won't shut up about it. He wants me to go to some DJ event with him and play my own music." He groaned and closed his eyes as he slumped in his seat.

"He does?" Bella's shocked voice rang out behind him.

"He called me last night. I told him no." He rubbed his jaw.

"Why?" Rene stared at him like he was a lunatic.

"I'm happy with what I'm doing. I'll be a doctor someday like my real dad." He sat Meg next to him. She was falling back asleep so he set a throw pillow behind her head.

"Do you want to do it, though?" Bella stood in front of him, her gaze piercing.

"Yes and no." He stroked Meg's back.

"Explain." Bella waited, her face patient, but focused.

"I don't know how." He shook his head.

"If Anthony wasn't involved would you go and do it?" Bella motioned for her mom to go ahead and head out to the car.

Rene left the room with a small wave cast his way.

"Yeah, I would, but—" His eyes grew wide.

Bella picked up his cell phone and started dialing a number.

His breath got trapped by his stupid throat. "Who're you calling? It's too early!"

"I'm calling your dad." She handed it to him while it was ringing. "Tell him you'll do it if he leaves the room when you're on stage performing."

She gave him the parenting brow.

"But this is—" Before Edward could argue, his dad was on the phone, coughing up a small Ewok.

"Please tell me you've changed your mind and have seen the light," Anthony said when he was done hacking.

"I'll do it if you're not in the room when I'm doing my part," Edward said with a clear concise tone.

"Done. Anything else you need?"

"No—other than directions. I'm not driving with you. I'll take myself there and home. You're not to speak to me outside of talking about this gig. I don't trust you, and I doubt I ever really will."

"Well, Jesus—Edward. Tell me you wish I'd died already from lung cancer and my day will be complete." Anthony chuckled.

"You have lung cancer?" Edward's pitch went up.

"Yeah—just found out a month ago. I've been trying to tell you, but you never want to speak to me."

Edward cleared his throat. Bella waved goodbye.

She leaned in and kissed him while she smiled.

A moment later she had Button in a car seat and was leaving out the door.

Meg was asleep at his side.

"Tell me about your cancer. Just because I don't like you, doesn't mean I want you to die. I don't want anyone to die. It's not a fun thing to do." Edward kept stroking Meg's back.

What would it be like to have someone die he cared about? A child, Carlisle, or even Esme.

What about . . .

No—he couldn't think about Bella being gone.

The idea of it was crippling and numbers were already zipping into his mind.

"Done a lot of stupid stuff over the years. All that drug use finally caught up to me." Anthony wheezed.

"What are you doing to take care of this?"

"Nothing," Anthony said.

"Why not? Don't you care about Mom?"

"Of course I do, but I don't believe in dragging out my life and making myself sicker than I already am, compromising the quality of life I have. Right now, I can take her out. We can do things together. I have pain medicine for when I need it, and I—"

"I hope Mom keeps the away from you and she administers them to you when you truly need them—otherwise you might get addicted again and abuse them. Rehab is no joke." Edward sat on the edge of the couch and quit touching Meg since he could see his hands wanted to be rough and tense now.

She was fine. She'd stay fine if he stopped touching her.

He . . . was not fine. This news made his chest clench like a door was slamming on it.

Why did he care?

Was it only because he was training and learning to be a medical professional?

"Well, that's your choice if you want to leave Mom behind bereft and miserable. My God—she just found you, and now you're going to leave her just like that?" Edward snapped his fingers.

"She knows why I'm doing this. I never served any jail time for what I did to you, and I never suffered physically over it the way I should've. This is my penance. I deserve this. It's only justice being meted out by God."

"You believe in God? Since when?" Edward snorted.

"Since I lost you. I had to have something to hold onto, or I would've lost my sanity a long time ago. It's through the grace of God I found the power within me to find your mother, admit to her the many atrocities I committed against her, and then I was able to beg for her forgiveness. It took a while before she would listen, but then we found each other again."

"Good for you," Edward intoned.

"Look—I know you're not normally an angry, bitter man. I know you reserve that for me, and I can't blame you. All I ask is that over the next few years of my miserable existence, you allow me occasional contact, and if it's only through music—so be it."

"Fine." Edward stood up and paced, watching his feet as they shuffled.

"Really?"

"You didn't say anything about the cancer affecting your hearing."

Anthony barked a laugh. "True. I _did_ hear you, I just can't believe it."

"Well, believe it, and quit smoking if you're not going to have any medical treatment for your cancer. At least make it a little easier for your body to cope and act like a responsible adult. Take some supplements, at least. Vitamin D would help some."

"I can do that. What other kinds of supplements should I be looking at?"

"I'll send you a list."

"That sounds . . ." Anthony's voice shook with deep emotion. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome. I'm not a mean-spirited person normally, but I don't know what to do with you in my life sometimes." Edward wiped his brow. He was sweating.

"I know you're not." Anthony paused. "Did you want to know what the gig is for?"

"No. I'll be prepared."

"Even if it's for a bar mitzvah?" Anthony's voice was light and teasing before he started coughing hard again.

"Yeah—I'll have it covered. If I know ahead of time, it'll just make me lose creativity and I'll be nervous. I'll find out when I get there."

"Okay—I'll text you the address soon along with the date and time."

"Sounds good. I'll talk to you then." Edward ended the call.

His ear was even sweating.

He went to the fridge, grabbed a can of soda and held it up to his ear, then rolled it over his forehead.

This father of his was going to make _him_ feel like _he_ was the one being gnawed away at from the inside by a debilitating disease.

And he'd find a way to talk some sense into his father.

Cancer wasn't the answer to the way he'd treated Edward.

There were other ways to atone.

**A/N:**

**Deep apologies. Yikes! I can't believe I hadn't updated in so long. RL got in the way along with publishing a few stories under another name and planning several more. I'm also still writing fan fic under my other account as well.**

**I can't guarantee how often I'll update this story, so I apologize for that upfront, but I'll see if I can at least aim for every other week. If I slow down too much, feel free to shout out to me on facebook and ask me when I'll update again. This update actually happened because someone PM'd me, asking about it. Thank you for giving me a kick in the rear! I needed it.**

**I won't be able to respond to most of the reviews this time around. I've got a story publishing tomorrow with all sorts of promo I'll be involved in, and then with Halloween and my birthday coming up, I'll be swamped, but I will read each one. You guys are always so great to me. Thanks in advance. I appreciate all the feedback!**

**P.S. I also apologize if there are inconsistencies in this chapter in regard to the first story. I simply didn't have time to fact check everything. I'll probably have to go back and clean it up better later on… Remember, too—I didn't have a beta or pre-reader. Though, I do have a new beta that will be starting on the next chapter, so there should be less of an issue with this type of thing. Yay!**

**Scarlett**


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